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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846527">baby, seasons change (but people don't)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetpackbleux/pseuds/jetpackbleux'>jetpackbleux</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anti-Hero, Chemicals, Cigarettes, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Fall Out Boy Lyrics, Gen, Gotham, Heroes, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jump City, M/M, Minor Violence, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drug Use, Villains, and everything in-between, don't bully him but he probably looks like an e-boy, heavy cursing, i will update this as needed, red x is actually pete wentz, the 1975 lyrics, xenothium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:09:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,370</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26846527</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetpackbleux/pseuds/jetpackbleux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years have passed since Spencer gave up his secret identity as Red X. That doesn’t make things any less awkward when he has a run-in with the Teen Titans under mysterious circumstances.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Robin/Red X</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An Awkward Encounter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is set two years after Trouble in Tokyo. </p><p>It focuses on a version of Red X that I actually created around 2006. I posted something on Fanfiction.net titled “X Rated” during that time and it’s SUPER cringey lmao. That being said, to this day I love the concept I created, and I consider this a more “adult” version of that. </p><p>That being said, I LOVE Jason Todd, but this is not Jason Todd. Sorry, Beast Boy. </p><p>Anyway, let’s go! This is my first post on AO3, so bear with me while I figure out formatting. I mostly just wrote this for fun, but if this gets any interest, I’ll post part two. Thanks!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things change. </p><p>Some try to embrace it, and some try to avoid it entirely. </p><p>Spencer had tried both things, and failed horribly.  What did that lead him to? <em><strong>Trouble</strong></em>.</p><p>To be exact, the kind of trouble you get into when selling illegal substances in the sketchier parts of Jump City. He was <em>not</em> a drug dealer. Absolutely not. He preferred the term <em>chemical retail salesman</em>. Would he ever recommend <em>digesting</em> his product? Obviously not. Was the guilt still there, since that was definitely what would happen? Absolutely.   </p><p>One thing he tried not to be was cliche, but goddamn it, he sure did <em>feel</em> like a cliche, creeping around the alleyways wearing an over-sized hoodie that covered the better part of his face but also made him feel like a child playing dress-up in adult clothes. </p><p>He took a moment to check what was trending on his phone. Politics and celebrities. Surprisingly normal, considering the amount of heroes and freaks running about. </p><p>Finally, he got a hit- but as they approached, Spencer very quickly realized that the boy looked about twelve years old. </p><p>“Hey. Got any cigarettes for sale?”</p><p>“Oh my god, get the <em>fuck</em> out of here,” Spencer groaned, immediately pulling his hood down just so the kid could see his expression of absolute disdain, even past the hilariously huge, Kardashian-worthy sunglasses he was wearing. “I know for a fact that it’s past your bedtime, kid.”</p><p>“Aw, come on! I’ll give you a twenty!” </p><p>“Absolutely not.”</p><p>“A fifty?” </p><p>“I-- well, <em>maybe</em> I-- yeah, no. No.  Final answer. Go put your chump change back into your piggy bank and save your little fetus lungs the trouble.” </p><p>“Fuck you, dude! You look dumb as hell wearing sunglasses at night!” the kid exclaimed. </p><p>“I mean, you aren’t necessarily-” </p><p>The kid had scuttled away before he could even finish his sentence, and Spencer sighed. “Wrong. You aren’t necessarily <em>wrong</em>,” he finished lamely to himself.</p><p>It was sort of funny. Reminded him of himself when he was a sketchy little pre-teen. He barely had a chance to reminisce, however, as a figure rounded the corner and headed into his direction. </p><p>Spencer quickly pulled his hood back up, scanning the stranger over as best as he could. This was definitely no kid- whoever they were, they exceeded him in height, and wore some kind of long overcoat that had a few chains dangling off of it. He also seemed to be wearing a hoodie underneath, pulled up most likely to hide his identity.</p><p>Ah, yes. Another cliche among the ranks.</p><p>“Hello,” they greeted, in an unsettling low voice. “Beautiful night, isn’t it?” </p><p>“I mean, I <em>guess</em>. Any night in Jump City is better than the run-down, sewage reeking streets of Gotham.” </p><p><em>Fantastic intro, Spencer</em>, he thought to himself. <em>Great way to get yourself shot right off the bat if this rando was from the great Grown-Man-In-A-Bat-Costume City itself. Really, though, why are people so defensive about it when they knew how bad it is firsthand?</em></p><p>The stranger didn’t laugh, but they didn’t exactly seem thrilled, either. </p><p>“I’m in a bit of a rush, so I’ll get right to the point. I heard that you have a regular stock of Xenothium on hand that I would like to purchase.”</p><p>A chill colder than ice shot over him, and all he could do for a solid ten seconds was stare dumbly in shock. </p><p>“Wait-- wait, I’m sorry. Did you just say--"</p><p>“Xenothium. Yes. As I said, I’m in a hurry, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be purchasing your entire stock. Name any price. I’ll pay it.”</p><p>This was, without a doubt, his worst nightmare. If someone had actually told this guy he had Xenothium, which he didn’t, then someone knew part of his past that he had worked very hard to keep hidden. </p><p>“Who told you that?” Spencer asked- well, more <em>demanded</em>, the casual tone he had maintained earlier suddenly becoming very serious. He gave him a moment to answer, but there was only silence. “Listen, I suggest you speak up, because I don’t even--” </p><p>It all happened fast. He felt a yank from behind, and then a strong push forward, causing him to kiss the concrete. </p><p>“Mother<em>fucker</em>,” he snarled, pushing himself up on his feet just in time to see the stranger along with a second mystery figure, booking it down the alley. </p><p>He wiped the blood from his busted lip, steadying himself to take off after the mystery thieves until he heard a familiar sound at the end of the alley.</p><p>“Titans, go!” </p><p>Oh, <em>fuck</em> no. </p><p>Just like that, the whole crew ran through, not entirely unlike some kind of circus parade. It was Beast Boy first, hilariously taking the form of a cheetah dipped in green. Next came Starfire and Raven, zipping through the air together. (Why had they not been going faster than Beast Boy, though? Did cheetahs really beat out literal <em>flying</em>? Then came Cyborg, paying him no mind as he seemed to be charging the cannon at his arm as he ran. </p><p>Finally, last but not least, the Boy Wonder himself.</p><p>Such was the disadvantage of having no literal wings. Robin was running at a pretty impressive speed, at least, until he saw Spencer standing there and stopped. </p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p> “Are you hurt?” </p><p>There was nothing he could hide his face with. It would look even <em>more</em> suspicious to lift his hood up in that exact moment. Instead, he kept his eyes lowered, allowing messy blonde hair to fall into his face and maybe give him just a bit of anonymity.  </p><p>“Uh. No. I’m good, thanks. He uh, went... that way,” he finished, motioning vaguely down the opposite end of the alley. He felt like an entire dumbass from saying something so obvious, but it would be worth it for a chance to inspire Robin to <em>get the hell away from him.</em></p><p>Robin’s gaze lingered, and even though Spencer wasn’t directly looking, he could <em>feel</em> it. Seconds felt like hours until Robin finally ran off without another word. </p><p>He finally allowed himself to watch the hero as he bounded after the rest of his team. What  Spencer had noticed first was that the former sidekick still wore a mask. </p><p>The blast-from-the-past had cleared itself out and Spencer decided it was time for him to clear out, too. He started a brisk walk in the opposite direction, pulling his hood back up. His hand went to the messenger bag he had been wearing underneath his hoodie, allowing himself a small, amused scoff.</p><p>The great news was that the backpack they had snatched from him held nothing of importance;  anything illegal, plus his money, were kept in the messenger bag attached to his person, and hidden from sight. He only wished he could be around to roast them in person when they realized. </p><p>It was still annoying, though. As he started his walk down the sidewalk, downtown Jump City lit up and bustling, he made a list in his head of all the things he would need to replace. </p><p>Two (stupid expensive) books for school, his notebook, gel pens with glitter in them (devastating, really), his student ID, and-- </p><p>Wait. </p><p><em>Wait</em>. </p><p>“My student ID,” he muttered to himself in horror, suddenly stopping dead in his tracks. He moved off to the side of the path, frantically checking all of his pockets, and his other bag, just to make sure. </p><p>Just his luck.</p><p>He allowed himself a moment to mentally kick his own ass, cursing repeatedly under his breath as he finally continued to walk. If the Teen Titans caught whoever those weirdos in search of Xenothium were, they would find his stuff and inevitably come looking. </p><p><em>No need to panic. I’m just a normal, boring guy. Just a completely normal student trying to pay off debt. Definitely no former criminal</em>, he reassured himself, pushing down the panic attack that was threatening to surface. </p><p>
  <em>Definitely <strong>never</strong> Red X. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Damage Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What happens when you try to put a fire out with water, but the water is actually gasoline? In other words, Spencer tries to resolve his problems and only ends up making them worse.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Oh, hey! I hope everyone has been doing well. Happy Native American Heritage Day. </p>
<p>I just wanted to say thank you, thank you, thank you so much to everyone who has left a review, left kudos, or even gave this a click in the first place. It inspired me to keep writing, and I'm glad that I have, because it was so fun! </p>
<p>Something important- if you don't want to read anything involving drug use, this is probably not the chapter for you. Not only is it mentioned but it is done. I'm going to make sure it's in the tags, but I just want to say it again for safe measure. Stay safe out there! </p>
<p>One more thing, super fast! If you don't know who Gabriel Picolo is, I highly recommend you check out his art! He has a Twitter, @_gabrielpicolo, or you can look him up on Google. I take a lot of inspiration from his stuff. The vibes are, as the kids say, immaculate. </p>
<p>Thanks again! Let's get on with it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Just like Gotham, Jump City now had its own resident clown, and it was Spencer<em> .  </em></p>
<p>And as he continued down the bustling city sidewalk, he wasn’t sure if he should be laughing, crying, or screaming. All of the above?</p>
<p>When he was seventeen, and had first thrown himself into the craziness that was the business that goes with stealing an extremely rare and dangerous compound, plus a secret identity that didn’t even <em> fucking belong with him, </em>he was endlessly careful. He covered all of his tracks, not once, but twice, sometimes even more than three times, and it paid off. There were no consequences to any of it, despite the close calls.</p>
<p>In all of the fun little Titan fan servers online (probably administered by Control Freak, that sus motherfucker) none of the theories of Red X’s identity were even <em> close. </em> No one had a single lead. His most favorite theory, however,  was that he was just a figment of everyone’s imagination that represented the power of <em> friendship. </em></p>
<p>Friendship who? If he were to represent <em> anything </em>, it would only ever be the power of just wanting to make some fucking money. </p>
<p>Now, fast-forward two years later and not only had his name been associated with xenothium to some rando on the street, but all he could do was stare as the Teen Titans danced right past him. </p>
<p>A lot had happened in such a short span of time, but all he could think about was the exact second that the infamous leader of the Titans himself approached him. </p>
<p>
  <em>“Are you hurt?” </em>
</p>
<p>He hated the way the other had sounded so genuinely concerned. He hated the way that his stupid mask lifted as he had raised his eyebrows in worry. He hated the one thing that was still clear, even after all of these years: </p>
<p>Robin was just. </p>
<p>Good. </p>
<p>For all Robin knew, Spencer <em> deserved </em>to have his stuff snatched out from under him, could have been the lowest scum of the streets, but he still asked. </p>
<p>He still cared. </p>
<p>
  <em>Ugh. </em>
</p>
<p>Spencer’s annoyance in regard to basic human decency could have been something to do some soul searching over, but he couldn’t be bothered.He only focused on what he needed to do as he started his route back to campus.</p>
<p>The walk had taken a lot longer than he had anticipated, not counting the fact that he had stopped for coffee that had entirely out of his way- it was well into the morning, and he was waiting impatiently for the last crosswalk light to change. He was about to disregard the red hand entirely and just go when a girl seemingly appeared out of thin air, holding a sign that he didn’t even bother taking two seconds to read. </p>
<p>“Hi!” she greeted, which sounded more like a <em> haiiii </em> , and he didn’t know what was coming next but he <em> did </em>know it was going to make him want to die. </p>
<p>He didn’t return her greeting, but she continued regardless. “Do you have a moment to, like, talk about the new mayoral candidate who has been, like, <em> horrendously </em> funding their campaign by--” </p>
<p>“I could not give a single <em> fuck </em> even if this man was funding his campaign by sucking one <em> thousand </em>dicks,” he replied, his tone far too casual for the nature of his words. Regardless, she continued on, spouting something crazy about black market drugs and so on and-- </p>
<p>“Don’t you care about our future, sweetie? Do you really want to place the well-being of our city into bloodied hands? You can’t afford to like, waste your vote on--” </p>
<p>There were so many things he could have said. It could have been cliché as fuck, as so many people in this city were, where he turned to her and said something along the lines of <em> stop trying to save the world and worry about saving yourself, </em> but instead, he said nothing, deciding that he would <em> literally </em>rather walk into traffic than continue the conversation. </p>
<p>A mustang nearly rocked his shit, but it was worth it. <em> Go on and hit me. Pay my tuition, bitch.  </em></p>
<hr/>
<p>After what felt like an eternity, he made it to his apartment complex, unlocking the door and slamming it open before slamming it right back shut, locking it before purposely stomping his feet up the stairs. </p>
<p>“Mickey! Mickey, are you home? The fucking FEDS are coming, dude! We gotta clean this shit out!” </p>
<p>Spencer checked the living room for his roommate, and then the kitchen, and every other place before slamming the door open to his bedroom. Okay, maybe he was just a bit slam-happy in his frantic state. </p>
<p>“Hey, Mickey, I--” </p>
<p>Spencer immediately froze, trying to process what he was looking at. Mickey had taken his bed apart, the frame tilted up against the wall, the sheets hanging out the window, mattress on the floor. Mickey sat on top of it as if he were the king of all the chaos, staring out into space very pensively. </p>
<p>It wasn’t really anything unusual to find Mickey doing anything…. well, unusual, but this was pretty strange.</p>
<p>“Dude, what are you <em> doing </em>?” </p>
<p>“I ate a granola bar in my bed. The crumbs, Spencer…. the <em> crumbs. </em>I hate them. They have to go.” </p>
<p>The blonde could only stare in confusion for a second or two, before his sense of urgency returned. </p>
<p>“Listen, long story short, I got caught up in something, uh, bad, and if things go down the way I think they will, they’re definitely going to come search my shit. That means that they’re gonna search yours, too. So, if you’d like to continue whatever it is that you do here, you need to help me make sure that this apartment is clear of anything sketch. Whatever it is, go put it on the kitchen table and we’ll find a different place for it, no questions asked. Got it?”</p>
<p>Mickey didn’t even look up from whatever kind of fifth-dimensional zone he was in, so Spencer abandoned him and went about his task. </p>
<p>As soon as he entered the room, he flipped on the light, scanning the area. Luckily, the worst of it had already been in the messenger bag that had been stolen. He grabbed an old Converse shoe box for the rest, digging in every nook and cranny for anything that could set off any red flags.</p>
<p>He hesitated as his hand touched an empty pill bottle in a drawer, picking it up to inspect the label. </p>
<p>Right. Probably should have gotten those refilled. </p>
<p>He threw it in the box, along with everything else, and called it done. </p>
<p>When he wandered back into the living room, placing the shoebox onto the kitchen counter, he couldn’t help but eye Mickey’s contributions. There were a few baggies, one vial of mystery liquid, and then…</p>
<p>A box of granola bars. </p>
<p>Before he could stop himself, he reached out, knocking the box off the counter in a momentary tantrum before sitting on the counter, waiting. From where he was, he could sort of see Mickey through his half-opened door, rummaging through some things.</p>
<p>Despite his…strange nature, he was a pretty attractive guy. He kind of looked like a mix between a classic greaser and a modern day hipster. Clearly, it was working out for him, seeing as there were girls going in and out of the apartment constantly, and they sure as hell weren’t there for Spencer. </p>
<p>It was almost enough to make a guy curious. <em> Almost.  </em></p>
<p>Finally, Mickey emerged from his lair, placing a very mysterious sock on the counter before looking at Spencer.<br/><br/>“Let’s take these treasures to me car, ay, gov’na? Mickey suggested, for some reason taking on a ridiculous British accent. “You’ll be proper chuffed.”</p>
<p>“Stop. Just… stop,” Spencer replied, hating the fact that his roommate had gotten a laugh out of him- a small laugh, but a laugh all the same. “Fucking idiot.” </p>
<p>They made it to Mickey’s car without any sort of incident. Spencer grimaced as he could feel heard the mystery liquid sloshing around. He had considered asking for some identification, but thought better of it. </p>
<p>With one final sigh of relief, Spencer slammed the trunk shut. “<em> There. </em>That’ll do. I need to get going, okay? If you see anything weird, you can text me, or--” </p>
<p>“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Since you put me through this very serious trauma, I think you owe something.”</p>
<p>“<em>Owe </em> you?” the former thief repeated, raising his voice in disbelief. “Bro, I just <em> saved </em> your ass from getting suspended, or <em> expelled, </em> or fined, what the fuck ever, and you want to talk about me <em> owing </em>you?”</p>
<p>“Ignorance is bliss, they say. And you stole my ignorance, sir.”</p>
<p>“I could strangle you with my bare hands.”</p>
<p>“You’re not as fun as you used to be,” Mickey started, solemn as ever. “Remember when we first moved in together? Remember the good old days? When we made fake IDs and went out to all of the bars in the seedy part of the city? Remember throwing up in the McDonald’s parking lot together?” </p>
<p>“Together? That was just <em> you </em>-” </p>
<p>“Irrelevant! What I mean to say is, you just aren’t as fun as you used to be.”</p>
<p>Spencer was suddenly glad that he taught himself to wear a mask years ago, because that one may or may not have stung a little. His expression remained the same, despite the way his eyes squinted in a way that hinted at murder. </p>
<p>“So,” Mickey continued, clearing his throat, “smoke this blunt with me! It’s good shit, my man. My friend Johnny told me that he only took half a hit and it fucked him <em> up! </em>” </p>
<p>“Johnny? Who the fuck is Johnny?” Spencer questioned, hoping to change the subject as he looked over his shoulder. No one was around, aside from a few pedestrians that were clearly students. </p>
<p>“Come <em> on, </em>Spence. Don’t make me smoke alone. You know how depressed it makes me. Plus, maybe it’ll help you not be so…. You.”</p>
<p>“Man, you sure know how to fuckin’ charm a guy, Mickey. Just shut up and light it,” the blonde snapped, getting into the car as Mickey excitedly followed suit. His feet were instantly buried in an abyss of soda bottles, cans, fast food wrappers, and a few things  he didn’t recognize but were sketchy all the same. Spencer had to place a hand over his mouth and look out the window just to keep himself from saying something rude- not that anything had ever stopped him before, but the faster they got this done, the faster he could leave. </p>
<p>Mickey wasted no time in lighting the blunt. Despite his involvement in these sorts of things, he didn’t...participate...often. Not only was it bad for business, but it usually just made him feel weird. Never really a good weird, just weird. He had never admitted it before, though, knowing he would likely catch hell for it. </p>
<p>Smoke started to fill the car as Mickey exhaled, and he passed it to Spencer. The blonde took it without a word, taking a quick hit and coughing as soon as he exhaled.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on, that was such a <em> tiny </em>hit! You can do better than that, baby girl.”</p>
<p>“Leave me alone, you fucking freak. Don’t ever call me that again,” the blonde coughed out. Even as he felt his lungs crying for help, he couldn’t stand down from the challenge. He started to inhale, longer than he probably ever had. </p>
<p>
  <em>Knock. Knock. Knock. </em>
</p>
<p>With his breath held, he looked to his right, out of the passenger side window. It took him a few moments to process what he was looking at: a casual denim jacket, a red t-shirt underneath, then dark, sort of spiky hair, and finally, a mask on his face. Wait-- </p>
<p>A mask on his face.</p>
<p>
  <em>A mask on his face.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em><strong>Robin.</strong> </em>
</p>
<p>A violent choking sound escaped him before he coughed out smoke. He brought his hand up to try and wave it away, placing what was left of the bunt in an open soda can. At least the abyss of trash was good for <em> something. </em> </p>
<p>“Is that a cop?” Mickey had whispered, but Spencer couldn’t answer him as he was fighting for his life, trying desperately to stop coughing. After a minute that felt like a solid decade, he reached down, starting to rotate the handle that rolled the window down. It got stuck not once, but twice, and he had to slam his palm onto the device to make it unstuck. There was no way to prevent the nervous laughter that escaped him until he finally got down enough to where they could talk. </p>
<p>“Can I… help you?” </p>
<p>Act normal. Everything is fine. This is totally fine. Maybe Mickey’s stuff was actually just trash, and he would only feel a gentle, functional buzz. </p>
<p>“Yeah. Are you Spencer?”</p>
<p>Oh, no. There it was. <em> Now </em>he was starting to feel it. His soul was 100% starting to leave his body.</p>
<p>His eyes had been looking everywhere <em> except </em>for the caped crusader, but he forced himself to meet his eyes as he spoke. Well, not eyes. Mask. </p>
<p>“Yes,” he finally answered nonchalantly. No point in lying since Robin was obviously using his lost student ID to track him down. “Who are <em> you?” </em>Yes, perfect plan. Play dumb. </p>
<p>Before Robin could even answer, Mickey gasped. “Dude, you don’t <em> know? </em>That’s Robin! From the Teen Titans! Can I get your autograph, man? Like, a selfie, or--”</p>
<p>Spencer leaned over, giving Mickey a stealthy yet violent elbow to the shoulder before opening the car door, slamming it shut and giving his roommate a <em> look </em>before finally focusing on the Boy Wonder. </p>
<p>They used to be the same exact height, but the hero seemed to have gained a few inches on him. Prick.</p>
<p>“Hope I’m not interrupting anything important. Your stuff is being held at JCPD. I wanted to offer you a ride to get it. Seems like pretty important stuff.” </p>
<p>“Does it?” Spencer questioned, a small bite to his tone. With that kind of observation, Robin had <em> definitely </em>gone through his stuff. </p>
<p>The thought of being anywhere near the police department made him uneasy. Could it be a trap? Yes. But if it wasn’t, wouldn’t it make his life a lot easier if he could just get his books, leave, and try to forget that any of this had even happened? Also yes. </p>
<p>“Guess I could use a ride. Do heroes in the city double as an Uber service now?” Spencer questioned, feigning innocence all while blatantly trying to piss the other off, but his comment only earned a small smirk. </p>
<p>“Doesn’t sound like such a bad gig,” Robin answered coolly.  I’m parked just around the block. Follow me.” </p>
<p>As soon as Robin turned his back, Spencer slammed his hand against the driver’s side car window, blatantly flipping off a very confused looking Mickey before walking in Robin’s direction.</p>
<p>As they walked, he stared hard at the back of Robin’s jacket, squinting. Why did it… look like that? Where was his stupid little uniform? His cape? He had never seen the little twerp without it any other time. Though, to be fair, it was two years ago. He somehow kept forgetting that it had been so long ago.</p>
<p>He had been so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t realize he had stopped walking. Robin turned around, but it was in slow motion, like some kind of made-for-TV movie. Oh, no. Time wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. How could it be real? How could he be dumb enough to agree to go along with this? </p>
<p>“You okay?”</p>
<p>Considering the fact that he was high as fuck, about to be trapped in a car with him?</p>
<p>“Yup. Great, thanks. Let’s just go.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i feel like we all have a mickey in our lives tbh</p>
<p>thanks again for reading! love u mean it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. a long car ride</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! </p><p>Thank you so much for the kudos and comments. It really inspired me to keep going on this. It started as just a little daydream inside my head and it’s really cool to think that maybe a few other people would enjoy it too. </p><p>I would have gotten this chapter out sooner but I was too busy imagining their outfits and making a fic playlist on Spotify lmao </p><p>Sorry if anything looks wonky, my laptop died (rip) so I’m transferring this from my tablet. </p><p>Thank you again! Hope everyone has a safe and fun day.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> It happened fast; less than one second, and he was about to kiss the concrete.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was _really_ about to die. Not only was he about to die for a mystery briefcase, but it would be in the presence of someone with a name as stupid as _Ding Dong Daddy_. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But before he could hit the road- literally- he was yanked by his cape and to safety in a surprisingly graceful fashion by no other than the Boy Wonder himself. <br/><br/></em>
</p><hr/><p><br/>“You okay?” Robin asked, his eyebrows raising, his mask lifting along with it. </p><p>“Just great, thanks,” Spencer replied, cringing at his own extremely fake, perky tone. Should he talk lower than he did when he was X? Higher? What about a customer service voice, maybe?</p><p>“You really didn’t have to do this, you know. I could have made it down there on my own,” the former criminal added. </p><p>“You could have said no,” Robin countered, and for some reason the blonde’s immediate response was an insulted scoff. </p><p>“I mean, <em> yeah. </em>But I know you’re just trying to help, and it felt rude to say no. I’m a lot of things, but rude is… usually not one of them, unless it’s deserved.” </p><p>“Yeah? So, what other kind of things are you, then?”</p><p>The question made him turn his head to face the hero, an eyebrow raised as he looked him up and down. </p><p>The <em> audacity, </em>not only the audacity to ask the question <em> , </em>but the audacity to look that good while he was asking it. </p><p>Wait- <em> wait. No. </em> The real audacity was on him for thinking some shit like <em> that. </em>Probably just the drugs talking. This could probably all be blamed on Mickey. </p><p>“I mean, for starters, I used to be a barista at a coffee shop. Do you know how hard it is to make lattes? Cold foam brews? Frappuccinos? Hard. Okay, maybe not <em> that </em>hard, but hard enough for me to give up almost immediately.”</p><p>That earned a laugh from the masked hero, and Spencer felt a strange satisfaction from it. </p><p>“Can’t say I ever really liked coffee. I’m more of an energy drink person,” Robin replied with amusement. </p><p>“Could save yourself a lot of money and just do coke instead.” </p><p>“You do know that we’re on our way to the police station, right?” </p><p>“Just a joke, Boy Wonder,” the blonde replied, unable to help the crooked smile spreading across his lips as he watched the other focus on the road. “You always take everything so seriously?” </p><p>“Only things that are against the law.” </p><p>“Yet you had nothing to say about what we were doing in the car.” </p><p>“You were doing something in the car? Didn’t notice.” </p><p>“Right,” Spencer replied, amusement in his tone despite the way he rolled his eyes. </p><p>A silence fell between them, and Spencer’s playful demeanor gradually fell. Kind of strange that he had one to begin with; why was it so easy to fall into a banter with the other boy? </p><p>It wasn’t long before they were pulling into the Jump City Police Department. The former criminal was immediately on high alert- mostly because of the stories he had heard in the streets involving corrupt officers.</p><p>Once they came to a stop, Spencer opened the door with a sense of urgency and got out of the car. The parking lot was mostly empty, and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his worn-down, oversized denim jacket as he looked out into the bustle of the city surrounding the building. Cars were darting in every direction, and he was pretty sure he heard a few shouts of road rage. </p><p>“We‘ll be fast,” Robin assured him, motioning toward the door as he continued toward it.</p><p>“Whatever,” Spencer muttered, following behind him. </p><p>“After you,” Robin insisted, opening the door for him to enter.</p><p>“<em> After you </em>,” Spencer mocked under his breath, though he earned no reaction for it as he stepped into the lobby. </p><p>The place looked shockingly outdated, as if the department hadn’t given them a budget for interior decorating since the early nineties. </p><p>“So, what am I supposed to do? Just go up there and tell them to throw me my shit across the counter or something?” </p><p>Robin didn’t even give him an answer, walking up to the desk without him and leaning down, speaking low to the person sitting behind the glass. </p><p>The quiet whispers spiked his anxiety to an even higher level.</p><p>Before he could fret much longer about it, a door opened on the left side of the room, and they were motioned forward by a man wearing a badge and a suspiciously friendly smile. He had silver, slicked-back hair, but didn’t look to be much older than them. </p><p>“This way,” Robin spoke, wasting no time and going into the room.</p><p>Spencer held his breath as he followed, but allowed himself to exhale as he saw that it was a room with storage holding what looked to be personal belongings. His own bag was sitting on a table in the middle of the room. </p><p>“My name is Detective Hargrives. We apologize for holding your belongings for so long but we’re sure you understand..”</p><p>The blond said nothing, only reaching forward to grab the strap and loop it back around his shoulder. “It’s whatever, I guess. I—“ </p><p>“— That being said,” the detective interrupted, “we would appreciate you letting us know if you have any further contact with the man you saw last night.”</p><p>Spencer frowned at that. Seemed a strange way to word it- what exactly were they trying to say? “Why would I want to be in contact with someone who stole my stuff?” </p><p>“We don’t know any names, but we <em> do </em>know what he was after. This man was offering up to $50,000 for even the smallest amount of the compound known as Xenothium.” </p><p>There it was. </p><p>He felt both of his eyebrows raise as he stared at the detective. Play it cool. Play it cool, he insisted, praying to whatever god was listening that his own face wouldn’t betray him. It took a long time to train himself to lie without his face flushing bright red. </p><p>“Well, hate to break it to him, but I don’t have it. I’m not stupid enough to go messing around with something that dangerous.”</p><p>“But you <em> do </em>know what it is?” </p><p>“What is this, an interrogation? Is this why you brought me here?” Spencer asked as he turned to Robin.</p><p>“Of course not,” Robin insisted, crossing his arms as he turned to the detective. “I just wanted to help you get your things- I wasn’t even aware that Detective Hargrives would be here.”</p><p>“I’m so sure you <em> weren’t,” </em>Spencer replied with sharp sarcasm. “Doesn’t matter either way. I don’t want to be involved with any of this. I-I just wanted my stuff back. That’s all.” </p><p>He didn’t even give a passing glance as he moved past them, fuming as he pushed the door to the lobby open with his arm and made his way out into the parking lot. </p><p>“Hey— wait! Wait up a minute!”</p><p>Spencer didn’t even look back at the sound of Robin’s voice, standing on the edge of the busy road and waiting for his chance to jaywalk. </p><p>“I don’t want anything to fucking do with you, okay? Just leave me alone. I have my stuff. Your dumb little mission to help me is accomplished. Your hero complex should be satisfied.” </p><p>“I was telling the truth back there. I had no idea you would be bombarded with questions-“</p><p>“It wasn’t just a question. It was an <em> accusation.”  </em></p><p>Finally, Spencer looked back to face Robin, but all he could focus on was the mask covering where his eyes should have been. </p><p>“It was- it was, and you don’t deserve that,” Robin insisted almost frantically. </p><p>In that moment, Spencer decided that he would rather walk in to traffic to continue the conversation, but he was only able to take three steps exactly until Robin caught him by his arm. </p><p>The blonde’s immediate reaction was to yank his arm away, though he didn’t continue any further.</p><p>“And what if I did?” He asked, raising his voice to be heard over the honking traffic.</p><p>“What if you <em> what </em>?” Robin asked in confusion.</p><p>Spencer squinted at him in confusion. Could Robin not hear him? Or had it been something else? </p><p>There was a prolonged silence, before Robin finally spoke again.</p><p>“Let me drive you home.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i feel like this has escalated really quickly... i’m here for it though lmao</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i have seen xenothium spelled so many different ways on the internet, but this is the way i saw it most so i hope it's right LMAO.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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